Gold
by AntiWritersBlock
Summary: A world of stars, black holes, pulling, and pushing apart. The poem I used is by Robert Frost.
1. Introduction

**Nature's first green is gold**

"I…really like you. A lot. Like, _a lot_ a lot," Lance managed out, squirming around his hands in anticipation. He looked up from his hands, and into the eyes of his reflection. How the ever-loving quiznak was he, a random Cuban fighter-pilot-by-luck, supposed to tell his rival, friend, and teammate that he liked him?

"Lance if you're going to practice confessing your undying love for Keith could you do it when I'm not around to be scarred?" Pidge said, looking up from their comic book. Pidge would randomly come in to Lance's room, sometimes to rant, sometimes to play some sort of game, but most of the time to ignore him and do their own thing. Of course, this has its flaws. Like, for example, the time Pidge walked in on Lance dancing around on the floor in his socks in underwear to "Hips Don't Lie". There was a very long, awkward period of time after that.

Lance laughed. "How do _you_ think I should ask him then, emperor pigeon?"

"Don't"

"Huh?" Lance was slightly shocked at his friend's answer, but he expected the unexpected from Pidge.

"You don't really show you like him, so if you say it out flat he'll think you don't mean it. On the other hand, he's too dense to realize when people flirt with him." Poor Lance got more and more confused the more and more Pidge explained. He was zoning out, when he heard the word Shakira. Though it was said in a very agitated tone, he still got an idea from it.

And what an idea it was.


	2. Chapter 1

**Her hardest hue to hold**

Keith was in the training deck, practicing handling his Bayard. No holograms or bots, just stance and poise. He was a good amount of time in, not there for hours or hardly there at all. It was quiet, the giant room filled with faint sounds of heavy breaths. Here, he was alone. He was even at peace. There was no threat of danger, but the rush of a fight remained.

No danger, no boredom, and no _Lance._

Speaking of the flustering and frustrating boy, Lance popped into the room, surprising Keith, making him lose his balance.

Keith grumbled, "What, Lance?" He had raised his voice when saying the other's name, which, really, made it not a question at all.

"Coran wants us to help set up some stuff in the observation deck. Said it's important," Lance said. It was then Keith realized something wasn't right. First, of all people, why would he and Lance be chosen to do something together? Second, everyone else is usually asleep, so why would they do the "mystery important thing" now? And third? Third, Lance was grinning from ear to ear when he told him, and he still was when Keith came to his conclusion.

"Lead the way."

Lance looked ecstatic. Before Keith knew it, he was being dragged by his left hand across the training court, down the dimly lit corridors, and into a garishly-decorated observation deck. The room had Altean Vonshap flower petals scattered all over the floor, a large, woven mat with bright colors in the center of it all, and Lance's prized IPod playing quiet pop music.

"May I have this dance?"

Keith took his attention away from the (quite hideous) mat to look up at Lance. Poor boy must have been as red as a tomato. Lance was holding out his hand, wearing the same grin as when he brought him. His eyes twinkled, even in the poor lighting. Keith took his hand for the second time that night, a small smile and a huge blush on his face. Lance guided him to the center of the mat, and turned up the volume for the next song.

They danced and danced, song after song. Lance was mostly (entirely) leading an entranced Keith, who had no objections to how close they ended up dancing. There were hearts in Keith's eyes, hearts that never wanted to look away from the stars in the eyes of Lance. Even when they had danced for what felt like hours, even when the hallways' lights brightened for the start of the next makeshift day, even when the music stopped playing, Keith wouldn't look away. At last, the two ran out of energy and lied on the ground next to each other.

They looked drunk with love on that mat; it was just them in the world, now. Everything looked hazy except for the other. And maybe that was a good thing. Lance crawled on top of Keith, his movements tired and slow. Keith's flush was no longer existent, but there were small bits of pink on his ears as Lance gently held his chin. Keith nodded the smallest nod in the universe, but that very small action would have the largest effect on their lives.

Lance, with lidded eyes, let his lips down to meet Keith's. There were no fireworks, no sparks, but it was magical. Their lips moved as fluid as water and their lust burned like fire. Both their eyes were closed from the ecstasy of the other, low hums of pleasure appearing every so often. Lance pulled away at last, and smiled when he saw Keith's exhausted expression. He kissed him once last time, just for a brief second, before both fell asleep in the other's arms.


	3. Chapter 2

**Her early leaf's a flower**

The next "day", Lance woke up in his room, alone, with no Keith. He took a deep breath. He figured it was better if they ended up on an actual bed rather than the cold floor. He yawned, and went back to sleep. This was something to worry about later.

A couple hours after that, Lance was rudely awakened by Pidge and dragged out of his room by a reluctant Hunk.

"I cannot believe you. You sleep for half the day, wake up, and fall asleep _**again**_ that easily?" Hunk scolded. It wasn't _really_ scolding, though. He sounded more like a proud mom that couldn't admit she was proud at the time.

The day went on relatively normal after that, except for one detail. The one detail no one noticed because no one expected it. The smallest little detail that could easily slip the minds of anyone.

Keith was totally holding Lance's butt every time he could.

Eventually Lance got a little fed up with it and "borrowed" Keith for a while. Shiro said some sort of "be careful". Pidge whistled. Pidge also got hit on the head.

Once they were an ear distance away, Lance grabbed Keith's hand just as it was about to claim the pirate booty again.

" _Listen,"_ Lance said, half laughing with a smirk on his face. He cupped Keith's smiling face in his hands, leaning down a bit to even their heights. He had let go of Keith's hand in favor of his face, and as soon as Keith realized that, he grabbed his butt one last time.

"Later, blue." Keith said as he left to go back to the team. He walked backwards the first few steps, winked, and went through the door.

Lance was left pink at that exit. Blue? Where did _that_ come from? Should he have given him a nickname? Lance, so confused that he wasn't confused at all, decided to go back to training and hopefully come to a conclusion on everything.

They were training in hand to hand combat, just in case the situation to use it arose. Hunk was obviously trained in hand to hand, making him much closer to Shiro's skill level. Everyone except Pidge and Lance were amazed and confused as to how he was this good. Hunk, not good at taking compliments, murmured something incoherent while hiding his face with his hand.

It had been a long, long day for Lance. Poor boy. He was happy to finally get his beauty sleep after the over-complex skin care routine was completed. He had missed a night, but that one night he would forgive himself for. With Lance's attention on the night before, he dozed off thinking of what could have happened.

Lance woke up to a bright, sunny day-wait. Since when did the ship start orbiting the sun? And since when did his room look like his room at the Garrison? Well, whatever. Lance looked around. Huh, no Pidge or Hunk. He got up and walked out. Magically, he was in his uniform, and not where the door to his room led. It was some sort of hallway he's never seen. He turned around, immediately seeing, to his relief, Keith. He was talking with some guy that looked ready for trouble. Dark hair, tan skin, baggy eyes: Lance tried to think if he knew someone like that. He couldn't wrack his brain to remember, so he walked towards them. As he got closer, the guy slammed Keith against a wall. Then Lance started running. It had the same effect as walking, but he was too fueled with rage to notice. Lance punched the guy in the face and drop kicked him to the ground. He looked at the big kid like he was scum.

That's when he realized this was a dream. The guy was, like, twice his size. There was no way this was real. Lance tried to turn to Keith, but, for some reason, dream him wasn't complying. He looked down. The big dude had vanished, swept away by his conscience. He turned his head slightly to the left, face now level with dream Keith's. Dream Keith was, apparently, uninterested with whatever he had to say. He kissed to right of Lance's neck, saying things that did not end up in the edited version of this chapter. Lance was confused on whether to enjoy this or t be even more confused by this. Isn't he supposed to control his dreams when he's aware of them?

"Uh, Keith-no-baby, red, baby-red," Lance was such an embarrassing mess. "What are you doing right now? I mean, like," Lance tried to babble on, but he was interrupted by dream Keith.

"You"

Lance woke up screaming into his pillow. They haven't even been dating for a week yet! The more he thought about it, the more he convinced himself he wasn't at fault.

Lance heard a knock on his door.


	4. Chapter 3

**But only so an hour**

Lance, ever so unwillingly, abandoned his warm blankets to open the door. Everyone knew better than to wake him up at this ungodly "hour". He wasn't a happy person if he didn't get his beauty sleep. Shiro learned that the hard way when he tried to get the team to do "unexpected attack" night-drills. That almost got him another scar. Though, no matter the circumstances, if someone needed him or his help, Lance was always ready to go. Curse his good soul.

The door slid open with a swish-buzz, and Lance had something big flung into his arms before he could say anything. His groggy eyes looked down at what was in his arms. Keith. Huh. Wait, what? Keith was in his room, arms locked around his torso, sobbing into his pajamas. Speaking of pajamas, Keith wasn't in his. He was in his normal clothes, bare of his jacket and Bayard. It didn't seem like he was injured, but obviously something wasn't right. Just guessing, from the shoulder crying at, what, 3a.m. space time?

Lance sighed, and tightened his grip around Keith. This made him cry harder. He moved his right hand to the other's mullet and massaged his head. Keith's breathing started to even out, and the waterworks slowed down. Lance rubbed his back with his thumb along his spine. He's done this before. His sisters and close cousins are very sentimental people. It's a second nature for him, really. Keith took a deep breath, and became shakier than before. Lance kept him upright to the bed, where they sat down.

They were side by side, Keith breathing shakily while Lance rubbed his shoulder. The atmosphere was more comfortable now. Keith was still threatening tears, but he was going to be fine. Lance moved his hand to Keith's cheek, cradling his face softly. He kissed around his eyes and wiped away any remaining tears. Keith looked at him, his eyes glossy and puffy. He went to hug him again, and after a few minutes they ended up spooning on the bed. Keith was the little spoon, with Lance's arm wrapped protectively around him. It was uncomfortable, but he would bear with the awkward cuddle arm for him. They whispered back and forth, and eventually got to the topic of dreams. Keith explained earlier that he was upset from a nightmare, but he seemed over it. The other boy was not very over his own.

Lance pulled Keith over to his other side and looked him in the eyes. "If…if I say this thing that, uh, will sound _very_ weird and inappropriate…would you get mad? It was only a dream, but…" He was dead serious.

Keith leaned in and kissed him. He leaned back after a little bit. "Sure."

"Well, I dreamt of us. It didn't start with you in it, just me. I, uh, found you getting harassed by this big guy- I don't know who he is. I somehow knocked him out, but," Lance's words quickened, " _I couldn't really move and then you started to do stuff to me."_ He would have felt blessed if Keith didn't understand him.

"Stuff? What kind of stuff?" Keith asked with a grin. Lance's face was both drained of color and flushed with red- I'll let you try to imagine that. He was clearly embarrassed, and it amused Keith to no end. He teased him and they argued, wrestling each other in the bed. Keith held down Lance, holding his hands down with his.

"Stuff like this?" Keith whispered into his ear. He moved his head down to his stomach and pulled up his shirt with his teeth. He kissed up and down his chest, ending at his middle stomach. Then he put his mouth on and blew it while tickling his sides. Lance was laughing so much he teared up.

"Keith, you ass!" managed Lance between outbursts. He halfheartedly pushed at Keith's head, signaling him to stop. He eventually did release him from tickle torture; with a smile brighter than any star. It was the perfect moment. They kissed, moving against the other just right. Slowly, unrushed, and perfect.

It was as perfect as gold.


End file.
